


Snow Patrol

by bornof_sorrow (wintersfire)



Category: Captive Prince - Freece
Genre: Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:53:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersfire/pseuds/bornof_sorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early duty is a pain. Snow, no porridge, no tea. Jord does his duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Patrol

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Captive Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/8174) by freece. 



> a quick fic for [](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/profile)[**lusiology**](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/) .

**Title:** _Snow Patrol_ (see what I did there? He he he)  
 **Category** : CP fanfic; comfort fic  
 **Characters** : Jord/Aimeric **  
Rating:** Couple of swears, pre-slash - dunno? R to be safe  
 **Notes:** a quick fic for [](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/profile)[**lusiology**](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/)  . Not posted anywhere but here.  
 **Warnings:** Just a little bit of fun. No deep thought here. We need J/A icons people.  
 **Disclaimer** : It all belongs to [](http://freece.livejournal.com/profile)[**freece**](http://freece.livejournal.com/)  except the mistakes, which are mine.There is nothing in Captive Princes to suggest that Jord does or does not like tea.  
 **Word Count** : 1407  
 **Summary:** Early duty is a pain. Snow, no porridge, no tea. Jord does his duty.

Who can resist this pretty?

 

 

 

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/bornof_sorrow/pic/0000ca1k/) Jord

[](http://pics.livejournal.com/bornof_sorrow/pic/0000hyd7/) Aimeric

 

  


 

Jord pressed back into the saddle and shouted up to the sentry on the

watchtower.

 

“Anything?”

 

“Nothing. All clear.” The sentry’s voice was muffled by the scarf wrapped

around his face against the knifing wind and flurries of snow.

 

Jord was already twitching the harness to bring his mount around back

towards camp. It was too damn cold for this duty and he wished it was over.

 

He controlled the horse unconsciously as he pondered the other duties that

awaited him and he’d have to get through before he could grab some food.

The mess tent would be cleared away by now though maybe Antel would

keep some thing back for him, fingers crossed. Jord felt depressed at the

thought of hard bread and water when if it were not for this bloody duty

he’d’ve had at least porridge and tea. He could rustle up tea pretty quick on

his own camp fire but dammit, early patrol was a pain.

 

He blinked away another flurry of sleet and raised his head up out of the

bundle of scarves trying in vain to keep the wet from his skin. The horse

knew its way back to camp and there was no-one else on this stretch of road.

 

He listened carefully for a moment to check there was nothing unexpected he

needed to be aware of – nothing ready to surprise or attack him, before he

let his mind drift again.

 

He thought of Aimeric. He tried to tell himself he hated the way the lad crept

into this thoughts over and over again, but he knew he was fooling himself.

He could feel excitement in his gut already. For a moment he allowed himself

to remember the smooth hot skin pressed against his, something unbelievably

fine, nothing he was used to, nothing he was meant to have. He was fire and

gold under his hands, twisting and swearing, fighting for all the pleasure he

could get. Jord didn’t know how he was ever going to give him up and it had

only been a few times. He snorted to himself, _Get a grip, you’re a soldier not_

_a girl_. He’d give up whatever he had to to survive, to go on. He had to.

 

He rounded a clump of firs and the site came into view. The white standard

issue tents of the company were camouflaged by the snowfall but delineated

by the dirty grey slushy tracks made by feet traipsing about their duties.

 

There were campfires dotted here and there. Jord imagined his own cold,

damp tent and how long it would take to get a fire started.

 

He unsaddled the horse, stored the tack and got on with his work. By the

time he’d checked his troop, made sure the baggage was ready to move out if

necessary and checked with the quartermaster to plan another hunt, the pale

wintry daylight was beginning to give way to streaky grey and lavender pretwilight.

At this time of year he knew the evening would fall quickly. It looked

like more snow too. Bugger.

 

Jord's fingers were starting to stiffen with the cold and he chafed them

together in an attempt to restore circulation and flexibility. He looked across

the sleety courtyard. The pump was frozen. He cursed again. Humping water

to the tents would be even more of an annoying job than usual, but

thankfully it wasn't his job this time. Deciding quickly he ducked back into the

quatermaster's room, where there was a fire lit and a copper ready. He'd beg

some hot water for a wash and a drink before heading back to his tent.

_Getting soft old man_ but the thought didn't stop him.

 

Twenty minutes later he was cleaner and warmer although he'd had to listen

to the quartermaster's complaints on everything from the scarcity of good

beer to the lack of fresh boys at the brothel. Some people were never happy.

 

He headed towards his tent stopping from time to time to issue the odd

order and pick up on camp rumour. Although he dawdled long enough he

didn't spot the familiar slender frame of Aimeric. Refusing to analyse why, he

felt his shoulders slump and the minor cheer generated by his relative warmth

and cleanliness dissipate like the icy fog of his breath in the twilight air.

 

Eventually he couldn't loiter without risking the catcalls and comment of his

ever-present, ever-vulgar comrades so he dipped through a gap in the row

and turned to his tent. And stopped.

 

There was a camp fire burning steadily outside with a tea-can ready and by

the look of it, the fire had burned for a while. Whilst he stood there and tried

to make sense of what he was seeing, Aimeric stepped from the inside of his

tent. He was outlined by the warm orange burn of a lamp swinging from the

central stanchion.

 

“There you are. Took your time. Wondered if you'd gone drinking instead.”

 

Jord just looked back at Aimeric, taking in the workaday clothes and the

uncertain light in his eyes. Even mussed up from a day of work and slightly

flustered he was beautiful. His bright clever eyes flicked over him and Jord

could see his thoughts like they were written in the air before him. Aimeric

didn't know whether to brazen it out or blush and Jord knew what he looked

like when he did both things. How the red tint crept up from his chest over

his face and eventually his ears when he was embarassed, how he trembled

with his own daring when he was on display for Jord. Jord was instantly,

acutely hard and he could feel a traitorous give in his knees that he covered

up by moving towards the fire, holding his cold hands out to the warmth.

 

“No. No drinking.” He didn't know what to say without making everything

_important_ or something but he could see that Aimeric was swiftly losing his

nerve if the darting looks around him and the arms wrapped around himself

were any clue.

 

He spied the tea-can and gestured. “That for me? Want some?” he bent over

and prepared two cups, focusing on his task and giving Aimeric a moment to

regain his swagger.

 

By the time he straightened and held out the other cup, he had some of his

own balance back. He raised the cup to his lips and smirked over it as Aimeric

took the other cup and caught his grin. Aimeric smiled back, gaining courage.

He took a deep breath and Jord wanted to trace the movement of his throat

and chest with his lips and tongue. He wanted to leave marks, to pretend for

a while they couldn't fade.

 

“So. Couldn't resist me, eh?”

 

Aimeric looked him right in the eye.”No.” He threw aside the untouched tea in

his mug and dropped the mug by the fire. Then he tangled his fingers with

Jords and tugged his mug away before pulling him into the tent.”Keep telling

you that. You never listen.”

 

The interior of the tent was warm from the fire and Aimeric had been busy

laying out their bedrolls and bringing in extra blankets. The tent was as cosy

and welcoming as it could be and Aimeric dropped the tent flap into place

before turning to Jord. He continued as if he'd not stopped talking:

 

“Thought I'd show you instead.” He stripped off his shirt and his pale smooth

torso was revealed, the only hair was that trailing down from his navel. He

traced a hand across his narrow chest and touched his nipple. He watched

Jord watch him and ran his hand through his hair, drawing attention to the

muscles in his arm and shoulder and bringing Jord's stare up to his eyes.

 

Jord couldn't bring himself to smile and he struggled to swallow, working his

mouth soundlessly for a moment until he managed:

 

“Yeah? How are you going to do that?”

 

Aimeric dropped his pants. He wasn't wearing anything underneath. He

stepped towards Jord and linked his hands loosely around his neck. Jord

could smell the warm incense of his skin and feel the gentle stroke of

Aimeric's tongue over his lips. He smiled up at him and Jord's heart gave a

jolt in his chest.

 

“Through mime and dance of course. Now fuck me before I change my

mind.”

 

So Jord did.

 

 

The End.

 

 

 


End file.
